The Trouble With Presents
by ofbrothersandteacakes
Summary: Stupid. This is stupid, Max thinks, even as tears of frustration bud in his eyes, David won't even like this stupid gift.


_Stupid_. _This is stupid_ , Max thinks, even as tears of frustration bud in his eyes, _David won't even like this stupid gift._

He's so close to just hurling the present across his bedroom and being done with it. The bedroom surrounding him, however, is one of the main reasons he's actually bothering to put any effort into this whole Christmas-with-David thing. David has put up with so much shit from him in the last few months – and yeah, yeah, it's _soppy_ , but Max feels getting him a present is the least he can do for the man.

But the paper just won't wrap around the box properly and _ugh_ , why does anybody bother with gift wrap when it'd be so much easier to just hand the present over?

Anger getting the better of him, Max hurls the tape across the room and it bounces back immediately, meaning he has to duck to avoid it and he curses, loudly, as his head smacks off his desk when he straightens back up. It's the same desk David insists he does his homework at, while he sits beside him on a beanbag, smiling like there's a part of homework to be _enjoyed_.

"Max?" David calls up the stairs, and Max can't help but curse again when he hears footsteps beginning to climb up them. "Is everything okay?"

In a panic, Max dives across his room and thrusts his weight against the door, only remembering after he'd done so that David entered without permission unless he thought something was really wrong. "Everything's fine," he manages to say, but his voice sounds strangled. "Just bumped my head." And he shuts his eyes as soon as the words fall out of his mouth, annoyed at himself, because David never seems to take things like that lightly.

" _What_?" David's panic is predictable. "Do you need me to get the ice? Is it bleeding?" he asks, his words coming out almost inaudible due to the speed at which he's speaking.

" _No_ , David, I already said it's fine," Max says, with much more confidence. "Go away."

He hears David sigh, in a recognisable mixture of resignation and relief. "Okay, Max. But dinner will be ready shortly," he tells him. "So make sure you've washed your hands!"

Max snorts. He never admits it aloud, but the routine they've settled into is nice. Normal.

Present wrapping is definitely _not_ as nice. When he's sure David is back downstairs, Max moves away from his bedroom door and back towards the gift he's attempting to wrap. The tape is lying on the floor, as if it isn't the bane of his life, and he snatches up with a grunt of frustration. Then he attempts to get the paper around the box once again.

Two minutes later, he's still having no luck. Maybe he needs more patience, but those stupid tears are pricking his eyes again. He tries to swallow them down, to no avail. He just wants to give David _one_ present and he can't even manage to wrap it up properly. What an idiot.

If it'd been for any other person, Max could've just asked David to help him with it. There's not anybody else he could ask to help him, what with it being only the two of them in the house.

...unless he didn't ask somebody in their house.

Gwen only lives twenty minutes away, on foot. Max knew he could easily get to her apartment complex and ask her to help wrap the gift up. Some of his frustration ebbing away, and a plan to get to Gwen's house without David finding out forming in his mind, Max put his tools for wrapping down and got up to head for dinner.

* * *

It's starting to get dark by the time Max starts to put his plan into action. All of his wrapping gear is in his backpack, along with the gift, and David is happily watching TV downstairs. Confident he can make it back in time for bed, he climbs out of his window and deftly down the tree which is in a location far too convenient for escapes like this.

The cold nips at him, so he has no choice but to put his hood up and tuck his hands in his pocket when he begins to walk. It takes him exactly twenty minutes to reach Gwen's front door.

* * *

Her face, when she opens the door and sees him, is a picture. "Max? What are you doing here?" she asks, frowning deeply. "Is David with you?" she asks, peering this way and that down the hallway, like David is about to appear from around a corner.

"No. Just me. I need your help," Max says, brushing by her and slipping his backpack from his shoulder. "I can't wrap this stupid fucking present," he explains, emptying the contents of the bag onto Gwen's floor. "So I need you to show me how to do it," he says, and he knows it sounds more like a demand, but this is an emergency. "Please," he adds despite himself.

For a second, all Gwen does is blink at him. "Max, asking for help? Have I fallen into an alternate universe?" she teases as she crosses the room and plops herself down in front of him. "Does David know you're here?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "I don't want to be accused of kidnapping."

"No," Max says again. "And he's not _going_ to know, okay? He's busy watching TV," he assures her. He chews on his lip for a second, wondering how much he should tell her. "This is a surprise gift for him, so you _have_ to keep your mouth shut," he adds eventually.

"That's adorable," Gwen says bluntly, a smile tugging at her lips. Max scowls and shifts uncomfortably. "Of course I'll help you," she says.

Then she picks up the box, places it on a sheet of wrapping paper, and starts to explain how to wrap up a present properly.

* * *

It doesn't take long for them to finish wrapping the gift and now it seems so simple to do, Max almost slaps himself. They're adding the finishing touches – Gwen had some spare bows and had let Max place one on the wrapped box – when Gwen's cell phone rings, loudly.

Max's eyebrows raise as soon as he realises the tune is David singing Camp Campbell's song. He wonders when the hell Gwen managed to record _that_. As she should, Gwen looks embarrassed as soon as the song rings out and fumbles to pull out her phone. She clears her throat before hitting answer. "David," she greets, and even though it isn't on speaker, Max can instantly hear David's voice.

" _Gwen! Gwen, I need your help_ ," David says, his voice all garbled with upset and panic. Max's voice begins to twist with worry and shame. " _Max is gone and I don't know where and I don't want to ring the police again because whatiftheytakehimaway, I thought he liked it here, I don't know why he's left -_ " and he cuts off abruptly with a sob, giving Gwen an opportunity to butt in.

"David. Calm down. He's with me," Gwen says, firm but reassuring. "He's absolutely fine, okay? Relax. Take a deep breath," she coaches.

There's the sound of a deep inhale down the line, and an audible swallow. " _With you? But why_?"

Gwen sighs and gives Max an apologetic look. "Max will explain when he gets home," she says. "Go and make yourself some coffee. We'll be there soon."

"Wanted it to be a surprise," Max mumbles, but he's full of guilt. His eyes remain fixed on the floor. He knows that he needs to tell David, that he deserves the truth after being so scared, but doing so also makes his entire trip a bit redundant.

"It'll still be a surprise," Gwen says as she tidies the things they've used away. "It's only five days until Christmas, anyway. Close enough." She ruffles his hair. "Come on, kiddo."

With the wrapped present clutched tightly between Max's hands, the two of them leave the apartment, side by side.

David opens the door and his face is pale and stupid and blotchy and Max can't help but immediately fling himself at his legs, gift in one hand as the other clutches onto David. Just as fast as he hugs him, he pulls away and kicks at the floor.

It seems to work in reassuring David that nothing was ever wrong though, because a wobbly smile crosses his face. "Thank you so much for bringing him home, Gwen," he says, reaching to gently tug Max inside. He doesn't mention how frightened he was, already able to see how guilty Max feels.

"No problem," Gwen says. She tries to meet Max's eyes and fails. "See ya, kiddo," she adds, before heading back down the path and giving the two of them a final wave.

David shuts the front door and Max dares to peek up at him. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I -" he starts, and then he holds up the gift, meekly. "I couldn't wrap this and I wanted it to be a surprise for you," he explains, much quieter than he would like to be.

"So sneaking out seemed like the best option?" David asks, crouching down in front of him and taking the gift. "You could've just lied about where you were going," he points out, gently.

"I _know_ but I just – I just wanted it to get wrapped," Max admits. "I'm sorry. You can ground me or whatever. I swear, David, I wasn't running away or anything – I'm not going to do that, not ever again," he promises, and he's proud of himself for managing to hold David's gaze.

"That's one of the reasons I was so scared," David says, sighing softly. "I thought we'd already established that wasn't going to happen ever again. I just...couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong." He fiddles with the paper on the gift for a moment. "Am I allowed to open this?" he asks.

"You're the one insisting I have to leave all my presents for Christmas Day," Max reminds him, and then he shrugs. "But it's up to you."

David gives him another smile. "How about instead of grounding you, I just make you wait until Christmas Day to open all of your presents, and I'll open this one?" he asks.

It only takes Max a second to consider the offer, the terror in David's voice when Gwen had picked up the phone instantly coming to mind. This is probably the least he can do. He nods. "Seems fair," he agrees.

Within a minute, the effort Max and Gwen put into wrapping the present is left in pieces, and David is staring in awe at the box he's just opened. It's a cheap box, which Max decorated himself, and filled with as many photos he could find of the two of them over the months they'd spent together.

"Thank you, Max. It's lovely," David says, and when he looks at Max, his eyes are filled with tears of what Max can only hope is joy.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't think I'll put this much effort in every year," Max warns, but he can't help smiling, proud of himself.

David places the box on the floor and opens his arms. There's only a brief moment of hesitation before Max hugs him for the second time that day, much more than usual.

"Merry Christmas, Max."

"Merry Christmas, David."


End file.
